


Shame On Me

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: Spirits and Cocaine [28]
Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drunken Kissing, Guilt, Idiots in Love, Infidelity, M/M, Messy Feelings, Mutual Pining, Pining, Steve also loves his wife, basically Javi loves Steve, insecure Javier Peña, steve loves him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29904369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: The worst mistakes, are the ones you wouldn't mind making again.
Relationships: Steve Murphy/Javier Peña
Series: Spirits and Cocaine [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100027
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Shame On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Mistake
> 
> Angst...just angst. I'm sorry.

The worst mistakes, Javier thought as he stared at his partner, were the ones that you’d be willing to make again. Steve was leaning with his elbows on his desk, one hand pressed to his forehead like he was trying to shield himself from Javier’s gaze, while his other held the phone pressed tightly against his ear. His voice, low and a little strained, was almost enough to make Javier feel bad for him, almost.

He’d given up trying to type out his report after a few too many errors sent irritation prickling along his skin, opting for a paper and pen instead, where he pretended to scribble notes. It wasn’t hard to figure out who Steve was talking to, only one person got him white knuckling the receiver, gentling his tone like that and stumbling over himself.

Javier didn’t really blame him, had known enough of Connie to see she was worthy of it, had a spark in her that moved her to come all the way to Colombia with her husband and the backbone to leave when that became what was best for her and Olivia. That took guts, that took a special kind of person and that made her perfect for Steve.

That was probably why shame burned through him as he watched. She called every two days like clockwork, seemed dedicated to keeping their relationship alive until this whole fucked up mess was dealt with and Javier…well Javier could still feel the phantom sensation of Steve’s lips on his.

A mistake, mostly his and partly Steve’s.

The thing was, when they’d met that first day outside the embassy, when he gave him a tour of the building and sat him down in front of the ambassador, Javier hadn’t been impressed. He’d been fresh off the plane and maybe he was eager but there was still a daze in his eyes like he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing there. Culture shock, sure, that didn’t make Javier any more inclined to slow down for him, to let him catch up.

In the end, that perception didn’t last, found himself a little blindsided by his fierceness, his refusal to be overlooked and couldn’t quite decided if it was naivety or willfulness. Steve turned out to be a volatile mixture of both, turned out to be somebody Javier could trust, somebody who trusted him, despite all the shit he pulled.

That had been a novel feeling and he liked to pretend it was the only reason he found himself watching his partner, admiring him, thinking about him. He’d always had terrible taste in partners, sexual or romantic, and he had silently added Steve to that list.

Least of all because he was married.

God, he shouldn’t have let Steve kiss him.

Standing up abruptly, chair whining against the floor, he kept his eyes averted as he reached for his gun. Javier needed fresh air, needed to be far away from Steve and his too soft voice, needed to get his head on right before he did something monumentally stupid.

Steve made an inquiring noise that was ignored as he walked away. Javier didn’t go far, they had a meeting in an hour that Messina specifically requested they attend and with all their latest fuck ups, he couldn’t afford to come out on her bad side. He slipped outside and rounded the building, finding the little patio with cracked stones and one rotting bench. There were two ashtrays sitting on it, both full with the butts of people’s cigarette’s tumbling over the sides, tempting fire. Still, it was private and outside, which was all he needed right then.

He leaned against the building, slipped his sunglasses out of coat pocket and put them on with a sigh. Javier tried not to think about, knew he _shouldn’t_ think about it, but his lips tingled with the memory of the night before, his tongue darting out to lick at them as though he could somehow steal back the taste.

It wasn’t even like it has been a _good_ kiss. Drunk as Steve was, it had been clumsy and half-assed, more wishful intent then forthright action, the one small saving grace in the whole ordeal. His touch too, had been more muscle memory then seduction, hand finding its way to his cheek, the other around his waist as he was pushed against the door of the apartment.

Javier just wished he hadn’t loved it, hadn’t been tempted by the feeling of Steve’s body pressed against his, had enough sense to shove him away the moment those whiskey lips touched his. It hadn’t last long, maybe 30 seconds before he’d eased him back, found his partner looking at him a little dazedly, a too fond smile on his lips.

Putting him to bed had been an acute kind of torture.

He spent the night swinging violently between worry and anger while desire simmered well-beneath the surface. Javier knew Steve would regret it in the morning, would take one look at his wedding ring and drown in the guilt…except apparently, he’d been drunker than Javier thought.

Steve had walked into the office and behaved no different then normal. Either he had alcohol induced amnesia or the man had sunk so deep into self-denial that he could act like it never happened. Regardless, Javier had no business feeling the prick of disappointment, the twist of jealousy, none whatsoever.

“Javi?”

He’d be surprised if he didn’t know Steve was like a dog, always craving attention and following on his heels whenever he slipped away. Javier let his eyes fall closed as Steve walked up to him, knew the sun had to be a killer with how hungover he was that morning.

“Javi.”

Humming an acknowledgement, he felt his partner lean against the wall next to him, arm pressing against his. Even that almost felt like too much, nearly made him push away, made him want to grab Steve and slam into the wall and just ask _why?_

A soft sigh, like he could tell what Javier was thinking and then quietly, barely above a whisper, so he had to strain to hear him, “I’m sorry.”

Javier’s stomach dropped. Steve could be apologizing for getting drunk last night, forcing him to take him home, could be apologizing for walking in ten minutes late and looking like shit, could be apologizing for the kiss or for talking to his wife all morning.

It didn’t matter, because whatever it was, there was nothing else to say except, “it’s alright.”


End file.
